Will Spring Come?
by Teteiyusu
Summary: The aftermath. Hundreds of years after, when everything starts to fall to pieces... (ZardeixTeti, Charon x ?)


The snow fell in a white spiral, turning the air into a never-ending curtain of white lace. Within it, blurred silhouettes took on a surreal, fey quality; the wind-combed silver of Tetiyus's tresses made him appear a living personification of the winter.  
  
-Spring has never been so far away.-  
  
On his darkness-draped bed in the corner, Zardei stirred, flung a muscular arm up over his face to cover stinging eyes. A soft moan escaped as his legs scissored in the sheets, fighting their way free. One foot, then the next, found contact with the floor, and then the Demon Shogun was sitting up, regarding the room in which he sat with bleary interest. It was the throne room of the demon world, and it was empty.  
  
The place upon which he sat was like a bier and a bed combined, draped with soft sheets and shrouded with silken curtains. A chair sat just by it, a sheet thrown over the arms, as if someone had recently fallen asleep in it, but now it was empty.  
  
Zardei pushed off and got to his feet, but what strength he had left him with the suddenness of water fleeing a sieve. Lethargy, like a giant weight, pressed down on him, so that it was only by stamina and dexterity he was able to grasp the bed again and not fall from rubbery, untrustworthy legs.  
  
Out the window he narrowed his eyes against the flurry of snow, and thought the form within it must by Tetiyus. That sort of uncaring solitude was like Zardei's angel. That sort of cold, grim withdrawal from everything.  
  
Cursing, Zardei flung himself backward upon the bed and buried his eyes in his palms, pressing against the lids hard with the heels of his hands. It hurt inside, so greatly, to think that nothing had changed. And all… he'd done… and…  
  
-Hands.- In shock, Zardei pulled his hands away from his face and stared at them. They were the same. The demon claw on his one hand was gone, the flesh of both pure and seemingly human. Again, came the moan, this time bereft and confused. Had his power fled? Had he become human as well? That was, he seemed to remember fuzzily, what Lawless had intended in his own sacrifice.  
  
-Human.- The thought filled him with a fear that the Shogun had never felt. He was a great demon, the most powerful pure demon in the underworld. He was of the noblest strain, he could not be… human? Could he? A stifled sob escaped, he buried his face in a cushion, twisting his exhausted body uncomfortably. –Why had all this happened, why?… For the one you can love so utterly you also hate them. The one for whom you would do anything…-  
  
The ornate door opened, and in a gust of freezing air and white spirals of snow Tetiyus appeared. For a moment, he stopped dead in the doorway, then moved gracefully further in to the throne room. The door closed heavily behind him with a sound like a coffin lid.  
  
"You're awake," he said softly, lowering himself into the chair by the bed as though it were a habitual seating place. Zardei looked at him just once, and was suddenly filled to the brim with unbearable pain and need. The intoxicatingly sweet beauty of his angel, so pale and pristine, so untouchable, filled him with so many conflicting and simultaneous desires his weakness seemed to increase merely by proximity.  
  
"What… happened to me?" Zardei asked. His voice was soft and hoarse from disuse. He showed his two smooth human arms to exemplify what he meant.  
  
Tetiyus did not answer. His soft green eyes did not even betray that he had heard the question. "We have things to discuss." He rose from his chair and came very close to the bed. His eyes were cold, and so was the intense white light that radiated from him. In his weakened state, Zardei's heart palpitated suddenly. He knew that Tetiyus could not love him, and so he might,- no would,- be angry.  
  
But Teti only seated himself upon the edge of the bed, near the demon Shogun, and pulled the boyish body up against him. He was warm, despite the snowflakes in his hair, and he smelled heavenly, with a light floral underlaid with an intense, deep and sensual musk. Zardei curled into him instinctively and happily.  
  
Teti murmured, "…But we will discuss them later."  
  
  
  
Somewhere within the colorless regions of the land of the dead, death also stirred, and smiled darkly at the arrogance of those who believed they could so easily destroy him. 


End file.
